My Immortal
by Blau
Summary: Character death. Sometimes, its just too much to deal with.


**Title: My Immortal**

**Author: Blau Rhapsody**

**Rating: T**

**Summary: He was tired. So very tired. No more, he would think. I don't want any more pain. Character death. **

_I'm so tired of being here  
Suppressed by all of my childish fears  
And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave  
'Cause your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone_

Thin hands tugged at messy ebony hair, eyes scrunched together. A pale forehead pressed against scraped knees. Every once in a while, the body of a small boy would shake as he tried not to sob. The boy, actually a teenager since he was fifteen, sat in the corner of a dark room, where the only light came from the crack under the door. On the desk by a unmade bed, a pile of crumpled half-attempted letters sat, a broken quill stuck on top like a flag. A broken mirror was by a cracked bottle of ink, and the ink bled onto the mirror. But Harry Potter didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. Sirius was gone. Harry certainly didn't care if he was malnourished, that he was wasting away, or that he was as pale as the dead.

_These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_

Ever since school ended three weeks ago, Harry Potter had been sitting in his room, keeping it as dark as possible. Though the Order had told him to write every three days, Harry never wrote. He had, in fact, written only one letter, and that was to the Weasley's telling them to take care of Hedwig, saying that 'The Dursleys said they wouldn't put up with her screeching'. But no one from the Order came, and no one wrote to him. So he didn't bother. He didn't do anything, except sit and brood.

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have  
All of me_

Harry had thought of tormenting himself, but he knew it wouldn't help. He already looked like a walking corpse, he didn't need to have the Order babysitting him, afraid that he might kill himself at any moment. If Harry was going to kill himself, he would just do it, and not toy with a knife. He had also thought of joining Voldemort's side, but that idea was immediately rejected. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had made his life hell. Why should he help them?

_You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light  
But now I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts  
My once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away  
All the sanity in me_

Everything was pointless. Eating was pointless, moving was pointless, breathing was pointless…You die in the end. So it doesn't matter what you do. Though Harry could avoid eating and moving, he couldn't avoid breathing and sleeping. And Harry wished he could avoid it. Dreams of Sirius blaming him of killing James and Lily, Cedric, and Sirius haunted Harry and mentally tortured him. A small part of him knew it wasn't his fault, but the larger part of him was convinced it was. And being stuck here…Harry was beginning to understand how Sirius must've felt in Azkaban, forced to relive his nightmares…

_These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase _

July 30th. A day before Harry's birthday. A day before Harry was sixteen. On July 30th, Harry Potter had gotten up. He had opened his bedroom door, and into the blinding hall way light. He had gone downstairs, and walked into the kitchen, ignoring the Dursleys who were watching the television. He walked over to a cabinet, and grabbed one of the steak knives. His fingers touched the blades, and he gasped quietly as he felt the pair sear through his finger. He walked back up to his room, not noticing the pale blue eyes that were watching him from outside.

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone  
And though you're still with me  
I've been alone all along

Harry sat on his bed, his legs crossed, his left hand on his leg palm up. The knife was on his wrist, and the hand holding the knife was shaking. He took a deep breath, trying not to think of what would happen when he was gone, reminding himself that he'd be with Sirius and his mum and dad. He took a deep breath, and slashed, gasping a shuddering breath as the blood poured out. He fell back, his head landing on a pillow, and he breathed heavily, wanting the pain to end, and the darkness to come for him. And the darkness did come, and Harry finally felt at peace. And a second after he left the world, the door slammed open, and the figure of his godfather stood at the door, panting, his blue eyes staring in shock at the sight of his godson.

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have  
All of me


End file.
